


Foreign Roads

by wildes



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 13:24:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2349953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildes/pseuds/wildes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not as though they planned any of this to happen, and yet it all had; coincidences pushed them together. But then, maybe coincidences always meant being on the right path.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foreign Roads

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer - this is a work of fiction.
> 
> This is a thing to try and conquer writer's block; it's not to be taken too seriously (at least not yet. I might change my mind about that at some point). Expect clichés and fic tropes.

_James_

“Oh, come on,” James says, looking at the disgruntled faces of his two colleagues, “we’ve had worse. It’s only for tonight.”

Richard glares at him, and it shuts him up. If he’s completely honest with himself, the sight in front of him doesn’t exactly make James feel warm and giddy either, but it’s honestly not that bad. The hotel the production team has booked for them for the night – undoubtedly in order to add a bit of drama to the proceedings – looks a bit, well, concrete-y, cold, wet, and grim. But still, they’ve had worse, and it’s just one night, and standing in the rapidly cooling night air arguing is doing them no good. James would rather just go in and lay his head on a pillow, however thin and smelly.

Eventually Andy manages to convince Jeremy that checking in is a good idea, that they really have no other option since they are about as middle of the nowhere as it’s humanly possible to get, and that he should stop being such a whiny baby about everything, and that no, staying in this place will not give him TB. Jeremy scoffs at that, but walks through the front door nevertheless, James and Richard right on his heels and the crew following on their tail.

“It’s not too bad,” James tells Richard, who looks at him, his eyes tired and incredibly brown, his hair messy. James is hit by a sudden urge to run his hand through it.

Richard nods. “To be honest, mate, I’m past the point of caring.”

They carry their bags up three flights of stairs, because none of them trust the lift, which Jeremy says is a death trap as soon as he sets his eyes on it. James doesn’t disagree.

His room is surprisingly alright. He seems to have two pillows, and he even has a little chair by the window. James takes a peek in the drawer beside the bed. Apart from a few dust bunnies it’s empty, and James feels distantly disappointed. He doesn’t know what treasures he’d been hoping for but clearly he’d been hoping for something. The bed gives a nasty creak as James sits down on it.

James is surprised when there’s a gentle knock on the door. They’d collectively agreed on no drinks tonight, because it’d been an exhausting day for everyone, and sleep deprivation had become their second nature. Except maybe for Jeremy, who sometimes would single-handedly cause delays to their filming schedule by refusing to get up. 

James opens the door to find Richard, who quickly steps forward to lean against the door frame. 

“Hey,” Richard says softly, his voice worn by a full day of bickering in front of the camera. “D’you want to go out for a smoke?”

James nods, grabs his keys, and follows his friend downstairs and outside. Richard leans against the wall and lets out a sigh, fishing his pockets for his pack of cigarettes.

“Tired?” James asks, handing over his lighter before Richard asks – and James knows he will, if he hadn’t lost each and every one of his own lighters, he would have come out here alone instead of asking James to go with him.

“No,” Richard says, even though they both know it’s not true. 

“Right,” James says, shifting on his feet awkwardly. Richard has his eyes closed, and he’s blowing the smoke out slowly through his nostrils. James wants to tear his gaze away but finds it hard, because he doesn’t get to see this side of Richard very often. Usually his friend is a ball of restless energy, ready to jump head first into anything the world might throw at him, and it’s rare to see him as tired and mellow as he’s now.

Richard opens his eyes to meet James’ eyes. “I like it here,” he says. “I mean, not in here,” he waves at the hotel, “but this country. It’s a beautiful place.”

James tears his gaze away from Richard’s eyes to look at the moon shining above them. “Especially in the moonlight,” he says, and then has to suppress a smile because an opportunity to make Richard uncomfortable has presented itself, and he’s not going to let it pass by. “It’s romantic,” he says, and glances at Richard, who instantly grimaces and kicks James in the shin. 

“You know, it was nice, but now that’s going to haunt me,” Richard says. “You’ve ruined it.”

James smiles and they share a few quiet moments before heading back inside. In the lobby, Richard turns to him, a mischievous look on his face.

“Should we take a chance?” he says and motions towards the lift. He probably sees the hesitation in James' features, because before James can form a coherent reply, he adds, “Come on, it’ll be like an adventure,” and grabs James by the elbow, pulling him towards the far end of the room.

“Are you sure about this, Hammond?” James asks, as he steps in the lift. It’s not very spacious, to put it kindly, and the light in the lift is flickering. “I’m not sure it’s even meant to carry two people.”

“It is absolutely fine,” Richard says and leans over James to press on the buttons behind him. After a few seconds, the lift sets off with a very loud clanking noise. 

“Oh, god,” James says.

“I will admit that was not a sound I was hoping to hear,” Richard says. “But see, it’s moving, it’s absolutely –“

If Richard finishes that sentence, James doesn’t hear it because the lift stops, precisely between the first floor and the second. James looks at Richard, whose eyes have gone incredibly wide.

“Press on the buttons again,” Richard says. “Go on!”

James hits the buttons and absolutely nothing happens. The light flickers again. James turns to look back at Richard and to his surprise, sees him trying to stifle a laugh.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Richard says, and a burst of slightly hysterical giggles escapes him.

“Please tell me this is a very funny joke, and that there’s a hidden camera in here, and that we’re not actually stuck between floors in this goddamned thing,” James says, his voice tight. He’s failing to see the funny side of things, because he is not fond of confined spaces he has no control over. 

Richard ignores him. “Isn’t there usually an alarm button in one of these? There’s got to be one.”

“Well, there bloody isn’t!” James runs a hand over his face and draws in a deep, controlled breath. There’s no use in panicking. “We should just call for help and hope that somebody hears us.”

“Let me see the buttons,” Richard says and brushes past James, his shoulder digging into James’ chest. James watches as Richard presses all of the buttons at once, then in turns. Nothing happens.

“It’s probably a power failure of some sort,” Richard says. He doesn’t sound worried in the least, and there’s still a small smile on his face. Unlike a few moments ago when Richard had been sleepy and slow in his reactions, he now seems to be completely in his element: alert and full of unwarranted optimism. 

“I need to get out of here,” James says, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m really not comfortable.” He’s starting to feel trapped, and increasingly anxious, and the lift is small enough that Richard is in his personal space at all times, and it’s putting him on edge. He feels like he can’t breathe properly, even though he knows they are in no danger of the air running out. “Do you have your phone with you? Call Jeremy.”

“I left it in my room,” Richard says apologetically. He turns to face James and when he sees James’ expression, his smile fades and he looks at James with sympathy. James is suddenly unbelievably grateful that he’s stuck in here with Richard and not with Jeremy. Jeremy not only would have ignored James’ rising levels of panic, but would also have, without a doubt, tried to fix the lift with a hammer and got them both killed in the most horrific way imaginable.

“It’s going to be alright, James, we just need to get that door open and then we can climb out of here,” Richard says, touching James’ shoulder awkwardly for a second, before setting about investigating the door. Unfortunately, James thinks it’s the only thing in the whole lift that looks quite firm, and if he’s honest he doesn’t think they’re going to be able to cram it open from the inside without any tools whatsoever. He tells Richard as much, but it only results in Richard calling _him_ a tool. 

“Let’s just shout for help, yeah?” James says.

“It is a threat to my manhood,” Richard counters, but shrugs. “Yeah, okay.”

They shout some, and then they shout a bit more, and a bit louder, and then as loud as they can, but there is absolutely no response. Nobody comes, not even when both of their voices have gone hoarse.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” James says, echoing Richard from a few moments before, and leans his head in his hands. 

“We’re going to get out of here,” Richard says, matter-of-factly and in one of his decidedly reassuring tones. He sits down on the floor of the lift and James flops down next to him, their shoulders bumping together. “First thing in the morning, at the latest.”

“I really don’t like this,” James says, not looking at Richard.

Richard puts his hand over James’ shoulder and gives it a squeeze. It feels nice, and if the circumstances were different, James knows he’d enjoy how close to each other they are sitting. James waits for Richard to pull his hand away but he doesn’t for a long moment. “Jeremy is going to combust of joy when he hears about this. He’s just going to split in half from laughing so much.” He considers this for a moment. “I’m going to have to kill him.”

“That’ll make for good television,” James says, and lets out a puff of air he hadn’t known he’d been holding. He feels a bit better now that they’re sitting down, and that Richard’s arm is around his shoulders.

“Do you want a finger of my KitKat?” Richard says, “Or do you think we should start rationing?” 

James looks at the lop-sided grin on his friend’s face and feels breathless, but for a different reason now to before. He swallows and watches as Richard takes the chocolate bar from his pocket. “Am I to understand that you brought a KitKat with you but not your mobile phone?” 

Richard’s grin widens, and there’s a schoolboyish bashfulness to his features. “You’ll be happy I brought this when we’ve been here for three days,” Richard says and opens the wrapper, taking a bite of the chocolate.

“You complete numpty, Hammond,” James says. “Go on, give me a finger.”

Richard flips him off.

“You’re fucking hilarious,” James says but can’t help a laugh escaping him. He elbows Richard in the ribs as Richard hands James half of his KitKat. 

“You know this will just make us really thirsty, right?” James says as he chews. He already feels kind of thirsty.

“I’m not drinking your piss, I just want to make that clear right away," Richard says, theatrically shuddering at the thought.

“Good,” James says. “Then when you perish I can feast on you until such time as I’m rescued.”

Richard laughs at that, all white teeth and eyes wrinkled at the corners. “I hate you,” he says.

The lift sets off with a clank and instinctively, James grabs Richard’s bicep. “Holy shit!”

When the lift reaches their floor, they stumble out of the horrid thing, both giggling uncontrollably. James finds himself thinking he wouldn’t have minded if they’d been stuck for a little while longer, and it surprises him. Then he looks at Richard, who is leaning against the door to his room, laughing soundlessly, and it starts to make sense.

James feels a twinge of guilt, and when Richard tells him good night, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes and struggling to get his door open, he can’t quite look him in the eye.

"Good night, Hammond," he says, his voice wavering.


End file.
